Padfoot in the Dark
by NevertooSirius87
Summary: After their final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, what was to become of James Potter and Sirius Black? - two young men, brothers at heart. But something pulled them apart all those years ago and separated them, though not yet completely, as their lives become shrouded in shadow and mystery. But their ghosts continue to haunt them, refusing to allow them peace.
1. Chapter 1

"Come _on_, Padfoot! Get a move on!" James pushed his friend from behind as they raced across the slick, rain-watered field. "She's waiting for us! We've got it all set."

The two were never apart it seemed, even after their final year of school. Hogwarts was another home for the both of them, and for Sirius, the only real home he knew; aside from the Potter's, of course. There, he knew he'd always be welcome.

But maybe this wasn't such a good plan. A lot had changed since last summer…

But soon enough, there it was. The little house, set back a ways from the road; the little house that had become the home he never had. It was a place where parents who were not his loved him; where things he did not own belonged to him; where nothing in the world could harm him.

"Are you even listening to me, Padfoot?" James shook Sirius's shoulders and laughed lightheartedly.

"Er- yeah, sure," he said.

"I _said_, you are going to stay here and there's nothing else to discuss! It's going to be just like it's always been." James didn't wait for his friend to agree before pulling him towards the house. "Now _come on_!"

Sirius shook his head in defeat. There was no conceivable way of talking James out of this one; he'd simply have to do what he knew he must and stick to his guns.

* * *

><p>Inside, the old house seemed unchanged.<p>

The curtains still hung the same as they had last summer, the mahogany table in the kitchen was as oversized as ever for the three Potter's, and Bartholomew the tabby was still sulking in his dark corners as always.

Everything was the same, but nothing was the same.

Now, a small portrait that was never there before hung in the entryway, welcoming visitors to this humble abode, much as its likeness had done many a time during his life. But Mr. Potter would not be welcoming any more visitors into his house.

This Sirius knew, and he made it a point to say nothing on the matter. It'd only upset things, and the life in this house was too precious indeed.

"James?" a timid voice called from the upstairs, only to be followed by rapid footfalls on hardwood. "James, love, is that you?"

"Yes, Mum, we're home," James called up to her as he made his way casually into the kitchen ahead. "I'm starved; you?" he asked Sirius before throwing open the pantry to inspect its contents.

He stared blankly into the all but empty space, a few boxes of crackers and cookies thrown haphazardly around the shelves. Sighing deeply, he turned and closed the heavy door. He noticed Sirius still hunched in the doorway, patiently watching his friend.

"What?" James asked innocently, not wanting the attention. Sirius could think what he'd like, but the last thing James wanted was for him to start voicing his worries. So he smiled and knocked his companion on the shoulder before meeting his mother on the stairs.

"My boy, oh just look at you!" Mrs. Potter embraced her son tightly and only released him from her grasp when what seemed like hours had passed. Only then did she notice the other boy on the kitchen threshold. "Oh, and of course; Sirius!"

She wrapped her thin arms around the young man's shoulders, happy to see the both of them. Sirius smiled awkwardly and did his best to return her sincerity.

"It's good to see you again, Mrs. Potter," he said softly. Why on earth was he not yet used to this?

He'd lived with the Potter's for at least one summer now, not to mention holidays, so why could he simply not grow accustomed to the warmth with which they embraced him?

But oh well, that mattered little now. He'd be gone soon enough.

With the money left by his uncle Alphard - well now. That'd certainly be enough to get started somewhere; buy a house maybe. He'd get a job and that'd be that.

Now it was only a question of convincing James.

No.

He was going to do it with or without James' approval.

This was not his friend's decision, after all. It was Sirius's and his alone. He couldn't rely on his friends forever, no matter how much he liked the idea.

It was settled, but he would tell the Potter's later. Now was not the time.

James' mother had corralled the two into the kitchen once more and had them sit down at the table. Sirius had been here so often, and every time had he felt a little more at home.

But something in the back of his mind had gnawed at his conscience and refused to be budged.

All those years, and only _then_, in his sixth year too, had he had the nerve to stand up to his family. Only _then_ had he left. And what did that say of him? That he was a coward? Maybe he was just like the rest of them after all…and now, sitting in the hard, high-backed chair, the same feeling ate at him still.

Maybe he really didn't belong here. Maybe his leaving was for the best.

But for the moment, he _was_ home. He made himself believe that. He was too tired to contemplate his future tonight. Best save such heavy topics for the morning over a cup of too-strong coffee with which to clear his head.

Mrs. Potter sat quietly beside the two, simply taking in their faces. Her son held his father's likeness so exactly. His friend simply looked like someone fighting to stay afloat. My goodness, there was simply too much sadness in this house.

"Would anyone like some tea? I think we need some tea. I'll put on the kettle."


	2. Chapter 2

The tea went quickly though sipped through pursed lips at irregular intervals.

The three sat in silence, though any casual observer could have seen that Mrs. Potter was absolutely bursting with questions about the boys' final school year. But she was a timid woman and took their silence as a sign that neither had any intention of sharing stories that night. Tomorrow, perhaps.

"Mum, I think I'll go and unpack my trunk," James said, pushing his chair back abruptly from the table and breaking the uncomfortable silence that had snuck through the door upon their arrival.

"Alright, love. You two must be tired," the woman said softly, trying to sound cheerful. "My goodness, have I forgotten already what it was like when I left Hogwarts for the last time?" James smiled and kissed her on the cheek before turning and slumping up the stairs.

"I think I'll head up too," Sirius pitched in, feeling guilty about leaving the lonely woman by herself, yet also feeling the urge to yawn tugging at the back of his throat as their long day began to catch up with him.

She simply nodded, her thin lips now struggling to stay up at the corners, and stared back down at her half-empty teacup.

Sirius backed out of the kitchen before turning and bolting up the stairs to catch up with James who had already lugged his heavy trunk up the steep case and was trying to fit it through the doorframe of his bedroom.

He said nothing as Sirius passed him, his own trunk in tow, and listened as he set it safely on the floor of the next room down the hall. James grunted with frustration as he struggled with the buckles which had become caught on the doorframe in his efforts.

His trunk was slightly bigger than Sirius's and was not nearly as easily maneuverable.

"You're never getting it in like that, mate," Sirius laughed and helped his friend to reposition the heavy trunk, narrowly passing it through the doorframe.

James nodded his thanks and dragged it the rest of the way into the room, placing it at the foot of the bed.

Sirius followed and plopped himself down, not hesitating to prop up his feet, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You alright?" He spoke quietly, not wanting to sound imposing, but wanting an answer. James simply looked up at him, saying nothing.

"Yeah; course I am," he shrugged, looking away again. He hated it when Sirius asked him that kind of question. He hated people prying.

He was _supposed_ to be a confident, independent Gryffindor. He was Head Boy for God's sake! People expected him to be worthy of that. Sirius's silly inquiries only made him face the fact that he wasn't all of those things. He wasn't perfect; sometimes he had the qualities of a bloody Slytherin. But that's not what others saw, and he wanted to keep it that way.

"Alright, then," Sirius continued. "So what we doing tomorrow? Unpacking still? Though you told her you'd do it now, so I s'pose…"

"What are you getting at?" James shot. "What do _you_ think I should be doing? And, _why_, may I ask do you think you can dictate that?"

Sirius sat up slowly, shocked at the sudden outburst.

"I- well I don't think I'm getting at anything; I only want to know what the plan is, since you have expressed how adamant you are that I stay. And no, I don't think I can, or should, be dictating that." He didn't want them to be fighting first day back, especially since he had no intention of staying, an argument now would just make it hurt more. For them both.

But James shook his head and looked away.

"Sorry," he mumbled, quite sincerely. "I guess- I guess I'm just tired."

"You and me both, mate. I think I'm going to agree with your mum on this one. That train ride was exceptionally long."

"Huh, you can say that again. It felt like it'd never end." James gave a small smile.

"Oh, yeah; I bet _Lily_ felt the same way!"

"Shut up!" Sirius laughed out loud, only to annoy James more, who came at him with his wand, jokingly holding it to his friend's chest.

"Hey, careful with that thing! I hear _magic's a dangerous privilege_!" Sirius exclaimed in a high pitched, stern feminine voice, quoting Professor McGonagall.

"Get out of my room, Minerva." James shoved Sirius off the bed and kicked him through the door.

"Yes, M'am!" Sirius saluted, stumbling around the corner and into his own room.

* * *

><p>Falling into bed soon thereafter, Sirius began to contemplate the reality of all his plans.<p>

Could he really make it on that small fortune left by Alphard? Who knows. Maybe, maybe not. If he found a job and saved a bit- well that would work, wouldn't it? He certainly hoped so.

He simply wished he was less wary of the whole thing. He'd never quite felt like this before, such a feeling of helplessness and unknowing…would he be pulled back by the rest of his family? They certainly wouldn't want anything to do with him- would they?

_No_, he decided. _They've probably forgotten all about me by now. I wasn't ever really there to them anyways_.

Well, no use keeping himself up with it. He might as well sleep. Who knew how much longer he'd be here? Might as well embrace it for once in his life.

And he slept more soundly that night than he had in many a year.


	3. Chapter 3

He woke with the sun.

It was still dark, earlier than he'd have liked had he looked at the clock by the bedside, but he instead simply lay in the dim morning light, following the rough ridges that crisscrossed the ceiling with his eyes.

Finally, he made the regrettable decision of leaving the warmth of the bed to go and investigate the whereabouts of the other inhabitants of the house.

He opened the door slowly, careful not to let the hinges creak, and slipped out into the hall.

Leaving the plush of the carpet of his room, he inhaled sharply as his bare feet made contact with cold hardwood.

Sneaking silently past James' door, he heard the telltale sound of his friend's deep, undisturbed snoring. He smiled, descending into the heart of the house, and crept quietly around the corner at the base of the stairs.

There, glancing into the kitchen, he made out the dark figure of Mrs. Potter, seated just as she'd been the night before, hands grasped firmly around the middle of a new steaming cup of tea.

She looked up slightly, turning towards his still figure in the doorway.

"Good morning," she said calmly. She gave a small smile and placed her hand on the table top, inviting him to sit. "Tea?"

"Thank you," he said hesitantly, not wanting to intrude yet knowing he wasn't. He sat where he had the night before, positioned as if they never had left. He then wondered if she had.

She poured the hot liquid into a thick sided yet delicate looking tea cup and handed it gingerly to him by the thin handle. "Careful," she cautioned as she provided a small pitcher of milk and a bowl of sugar.

He nodded his thanks and returned her good morning.

"Do you suppose you'll stay?" she asked suddenly, making him drink the scalding tea too quickly and gasp as it scorched the inside of his throat.

"Sorry?" He hadn't thought she knew, even _he_ really didn't know his plans. He'd told no one.

"I'm sorry, I overheard you and James last night. It sounded to me you weren't sure; that James had to convince you to stay here with us." She smiled slightly and sat back from the table. "I don't like to think you're being held against your will trying to be a friend."

"I - er - I don't know," Sirius responded quietly. "I want to, you're like family to me; it's not that. I just - " He sighed, not knowing how to continue without making too much of a fool of himself.

"I understand," she said instead, nodding. "It's hard, now that James' father - well, I suppose you'll need some time to figure out what you want. James can't live here forever either, but between you and me, I'm not so sure he knows that yet."

She chuckled and Sirius couldn't help but join her. It felt good to laugh, even just a little; even at a stupid joke about his friend, sleeping soundly and obliviously upstairs.

He nodded, breathing in deeply, his mood brightened.

"I haven't really mentioned it to him yet," Sirius mumbled. "I know he's not going to like it."

Mrs. Potter nodded and examined her tea cup. "Yes, I think you're right, though you also need to do what _you_ think you need to, not what he thinks you need." She put down the cup and looked up at him. "Does that make any sense?"

"Ha- yeah, it does. I think it's really just a matter of making myself do it at this point; not - "

"Not staying on my account," a low voice muttered from the darkness of the hall.

James, contrary to Sirius's belief, had not been sleeping as soundly as usual and had consequentially been woken by the low voices of his friend and mother. He now stood, framed in the doorway, having overheard just enough to grasp the gist of the conversation.

"James, hey. Er- good morning," Sirius stumbled unsure what to say, unsure how, or if, he could back out of an explanation. He was more than sure he couldn't.

"Morning," James returned, walking into the light and moving to sit at the table. "You two have been up for a while, then?"

"Well - "

"Not for 'a while'; Sirius just joined me. And now that you have as well perhaps we can talk," the older woman cut in, glancing at the frazzled, shaggy haired boy who gave a small smile of gratitude.

"About? Sounds to me like there's already been a discussion," James retorted, however calmly.

"Yes, between Sirius and I; I surely hope you don't feel as if you've been left out." Her voice was steady, not filled so much with concern as with the dangerous warning voice of a mother. She smiled at her son who did not seem to appreciate her teasing him. "Sirius has a proposition he'd like to make, though without interruption and with hope that his friend will make an effort to understand." With that, she picked up the tea and stood, walking out of the kitchen and back upstairs.

Sirius looked after her, startled. This was not the plan - though, to be honest, had he really had one?

"Well?" James was looking at him now, expectantly, but not enthusiastically, as they sat alone at the too big table in the too small room.

"Er- well, yeah. So, I've been thinking, to be realistic I don't think I could stay for much longer; I mean to say _living_ here, not like, leave the country or anything..."

"And you're always the one to be _realistic_, aren't you?" James replied sarcastically.

"Well I mean - that's not really the point right now, is it? I mean, come on, James. We're out! We're on our own now; there isn't anybody to keep us up anymore. We have to do that. God, I know I don't like the sound of that, and God knows that I'm the _last_ person that should - or _could_, for that matter - be telling you what to do. So please don't take this that way. But I think I need to do something now - on my own." He sighed, waiting for any kind of response.

But James was silent. He just sat, hunched over the table, watching his friend intently, waiting for more. But no more came.

"Okay," he whispered finally. "If you're worrying about what I think, you shouldn't. Despite what you may like to think, I do not need you with me every second of the day to keep my sanity." The two boys laughed.

"Well thank God for that! I was beginning to think I'd end up living with you until death do we part. You know you're like a brother to me, mate, but to be honest, I don't want to picture growing old together. We'd have quite a few disappointed ladies on our hands," Sirius joked.

Soon, the two were laughing loudly, but stopped when the old clock in the hall struck the hour and they were once more reminded of their circumstances.

"What now?" James asked.

"Dunno, but don't act like it's my funeral. I'm not leaving yet, Prongs!" He knocked James on the shoulder and stood from the table. "Let's go unpack, then."


End file.
